Huaijin sat backstage, legs swinging from her chair as she ate fruit slices. Director Tang hovered protectively, ranting about how the lighting crew needed to improve their dimming timing "for her performance quality."
She smiled helplessly.
Her bracelet buzzed; her father sent a message.
Did you have fun?
She typed back:
Yes. A lot, Daddy! Did you eat lunch?
A pause.
Then:
Not yet.
She sighed.
Dad… you have to eat on time.
Another pause.
Then, unexpectedly:
Okay. I'll listen to you.
Her heart warmed.
She typed quickly:
When will you be home?
A longer pause.
Then:
Soon.
I'll pick you up today.
Her eyes widened.
"…Dad is coming," she whispered.
Director Tang blinked. "Huaijin, what did you say?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, smiling.
Outside, the other children were being picked up one by one.
Mothers hugging them. Fathers patting them on the head. Warm laughter filled the hallway.
And for once… She didn't feel lonely.
Because her father—
